by kendra Smith
I lean back in my seat and have the most enormous urge to cry. I pull the sun visor down and look at myself. Blotchy skin, piggy eyes and I probably have stains on my T-shirt again. Don’t be such a stupid fool, he’s only coming round to see you to do his duty, because he was nearby. He’s a Nice guy. Capital N.
Daniel wanders back to where we’re parked. I study him closely from the safety of the car – he’s taller than I remembered and with a neat white shirt and tie and navy suit, he somehow manages to make dressing for a funeral look sexy. His hair has been cropped shorter and his sunglasses perch on top of his head. As he opens the car door, he leans over his seat and hands me an ice-cold can of Coke. He picks up his phone, glances at it and a huge grin spreads across his face.
I feel like a shard of glass has pierced my heart, leaving little splinters there, which are being pushed through the fleshy organ, making me physically wince. He looks at me and smiles. ‘Shall we take a walk? It’s such a lovely day.’
I nod. I don’t trust myself to speak. Just get out the car and walk, like a good little girl who is being treated to time with Mr Nice Guy – but just for the afternoon. You can’t have him for any longer.
I get out the car to a welcome breeze in the shade of the car park. We stroll around the little gravelly paths with our drinks. There are children playing by the swings, blackbirds are chirping and, in the distance, someone is mowing a lawn. It’s the perfect summer setting. I breathe in deeply, enjoying the smell of freshly cut grass, wishing things were different. There’s a waft of frying bacon from the café and my stomach growls. We walk slowly, in step.
Daniel spots an empty bench and nods to it. As we sit down, there it is again: that familiar spicy aftershave. We sit with our thighs touching and because we are so close I bump my arm on his and my drink spills on his suit. ‘Damn! Sorry!’
Daniel pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and dabs at his trouser leg. ‘No problem.’
I am such a klutz. In the play area, a baby starts to cry in his pram; I can feel my breasts tingle and fill up with milk. That’s all I need, leaking breasts as well as spilling my Coke everywhere. Daniel turns to me. ‘Sorry I haven’t been in touch more. It’s – difficult to explain. How’s things?’
Difficult to explain? I think it’s called a new girlfriend. Don’t be horrid, Charlie. ‘Well, it’s been a while.’ I raise my eyebrows at him and he looks down to the ground. ‘Thanks for the flowers, by the way,’ I add and he smiles.
‘Least I could do.’
Yeah, that and explain the silence. But it looks like I know why now. Too busy elsewhere…
‘How’s, er, the baby, Jacob?’
‘Oh, he’s fine – I believe.’ I shrug. ‘I don’t really know how he is. Suzie is very protective of him and I don’t want to see him – not right now anyway.’ My breasts start to hurt a bit more and I can feel sweat gathering on my back. This is useless. I have no idea what I’m doing here. I’m just making a fool of myself. I want to go home, be allowed to cry and not keep up this stupid pretence. I take a sip of my drink, then put it down. I don’t want it any more.
‘It’s not bad, is it? I sometimes come here with Mrs G.’
‘Mrs G?’
‘Oh, she was a neighbour of Mrs Norris; that’s how I met her.’
I’m basically another job to him. Go see Charlie, check on her like you would your pensioners.
Something dies a little inside me as I turn to him. ‘Daniel, look, actually I don’t feel well at all—’ Just as I turn to him, I spot two figures on bicycles beyond the park, on the path that leads across the Downs. Is that Dawn? It looks a lot like her. I squint in the sun and suddenly feel terribly, terribly hot. It could be mastitis. I’ve not been feeling right for a few days.
‘Sorry?’
‘I’m not feeling great,’ I say as I stand up. ‘Can you just drive me home? It must be to do with expressing breast milk, all the hormones. I think it might be mastitis.’
‘Yes sure, of course.’ He looks alarmed and gets to his feet, takes the can from me and places both of them in the bin.
When we get back to the car, he comes to my side and opens the door wide for me. ‘Are you all right, Charlie? You look really pale. Shouldn’t you phone the doctor or something?’
‘I just want to go home and lie down, take some paracetamol – really,’ I add. Because that’s exactly what I need to do right now. ‘I think it’s the heat,’ I lie.
‘Of course.’
We drive home in silence and stop at some traffic lights. I wind the window down further – it’s so stuffy in here. There’s a house on the corner. You can just see into the back garden where there’s a mature magnolia tree, its beautiful ivory flowers holding their heads up to the sun. Various flotsam and jetsam of domestic life lie scattered around the grass: a small blue children’s slide, a barbecue, a paddling pool half filled up with masses of colourful plastic objects floating around, abandoned after play.
A woman, with her back to us, is trying to peg up washing. She’s grappling with a big blue sheet that’s billowing in the wind and being pulled by a playful toddler. The golden-haired toddler is in a nappy; he’s squealing with laughter as his mother plays tug-of-war with the sheet. Both of them collapse onto the grass and she tickles her son on his bare tummy.
I have never felt so alone in my life.
71
Dawn
Research shows that even standing in a power position such as tall, legs slightly apart, hand on your hips, Wonder Woman-style – will flood your system with testosterone, making you feel powerful and confident.
Dawn pulled her shoulders back and bookmarked the ‘Confident Women’ website she’d been reading. Right, enough was enough. She needed to confront Joyce about her length of stay. It was now eight months for heaven’s sake. And far from benefitting from her mother-in-law’s company, Dawn felt that she was totally outnumbered. They were definitely in cahoots over something and she feared it was the beginning of the end of her marriage.
Joyce was in the kitchen when she found her, ‘tidying up’ again.
‘Oh, hello dear, I found all these napkins and thought I’d make—’ She stopped mid-sentence and stared at Dawn. ‘Whatever are you doing, dear, standing with your legs apart and hand on hips. Is this some sort of new yoga you’ve learnt?’
Honestly! ‘No, Joyce, it’s not. I – well, look, anyway we need to chat about your stay.’
‘Yes dear, I know.’ Joyce patted her hair down and smiled. ‘I was just thinking the same thing myself and I’ve arranged for Ethel to look after Purdey a little longer – he’s only next door. Ethel says it’s quite lovely. He goes back to my house through the cat flap from time to time but always back to her in the evening.’ Her brow furrowed. ‘I hope he will sleep at mine when I get back. I hope he doesn’t get too used to it.’
‘Joyce – stay longer? I wanted to—’ she remembered her power position and pulled her shoulders back again ‘—actually I wanted to ask how long you were staying.’
‘Oh. Right well, Eric said to stay “as long as you like”. I thought you two had discussed it?’
‘No, not really, we haven’t discussed much lately,’ she said tightly.
Just as Dawn was wondering how a power position helped you to suggest to your mother-in-law that she cut her stay short, her phone rang. The screen flashed up that it was Daniel.
‘Hi, Daniel, how are you?’
‘Yes fine, listen, have you seen Charlie at all? She’s not answering my calls.’
‘Not really. We’ve only managed to chat briefly.’ She went through to the lounge, out of nosy old Joyce’s earshot.
‘It’s just that I dropped her off at her house on Sunday and since then I haven’t heard from her. She said she might have mastitis. I don’t know how serious that is.’
‘No, she’s fine. I spoke with her yesterday – she was just—’ Dawn didn’t want to dwell on how dreadful Charlie sounded, and after she’d told Dawn about
Daniel’s new girlfriend, she had been sobbing on the phone. But Dawn didn’t want to let Daniel know they’d been gossiping about him. ‘Look, she’s fine, she went to the doctor and it wasn’t mastitis; however, she’s awash with hormones, Daniel, and it must be really hard for her, you know, giving up the baby – and everything. It’s just the baby blues – quite normal.’ She thought she’d said enough. ‘Maybe send her a text?’ She added as an afterthought.
‘I have Dawn, but—’ But before Daniel could say any more, there was a screech from Alice upstairs and Dawn dropped her phone just as Joyce put her head round the door with a face mask on. ‘Was that Alice, dear?’
‘Yes,’ said Dawn, pushing past her and heading up the stairs.
Joyce followed. ‘She said she was having a shower. She never takes showers, though.’ Joyce’s voice sounded doubtful. ‘I’ve been in the other bathroom and I heard a noise.’
‘A shower? Well, no she usually has a bath.’ Dawn flew up the stairs two by two. Maybe she’d fallen over?
They both ran to the bathroom door and banged on it. It was locked. The children were told never to lock the door in the shower room. Dawn’s heart started to pound.
‘Alice! Are you all right? What are you doing?’ Dawn bellowed. Suddenly there was a loud hissing sound.
‘Alice! Have you got the cat in there??’
‘No! OK, yes! But it’s fine.’
‘A-L-I-C-E – what are you doing?’
‘If I tell you, you will get mad.’
‘No, I won’t.’ Dawn tried to control her breathing.
‘You won’t get all cross and take away my treats on Friday like you normally do?’
Was she normally that stroppy? It must be the stress.
‘No, I won’t.’
‘Alice dear, we were worried about you, when you screamed,’ Joyce added.
‘Well I’m just doing something to the cat. I thought he’d like it, but I’m not sure now.’
‘Alice, darling,’ Joyce said calmly, ‘Mummy and I are worried about you in there with the door locked. Now open it, there’s a good girl. You know not to lock the bathroom door.’
‘But you lock the door, Nanny.’
‘No, I don’t, darling, I never lock the door – you know that – in case my arthritis plays up and I need help. Mummy and Daddy know that!’ She smiled at Dawn.
‘Yes, you do! You locked the door that weekend, when Mummy and Daddy were away and that man was here. You locked the door in the bathroom then.’
What man? Dawn turned to stare at her and she noticed some lumps in the avocado face mask. Joyce looked like Kermit the Frog.
‘Right, I think I need a little lie-down now. Alice has given me a headache, and I need to rest to let this mask do its magic.’ Joyce bustled off leaving Dawn watching her retreat purposefully down the hall in a pink chiffon blouse.
She’d had enough. ‘Alice!’ She banged again. ‘Open the—’
Slowly the door creaked open and Alice’s head popped out.
‘What have you been doing?’ Dawn pushed the door back and saw a blue stain all over the bath. Then she looked at her previously white cat as it belted past her, an interesting colour of soggy blue.
‘Alice!’
‘Sorry.’ Alice looked up at her and squished her nose up. ‘I thought kitty would like his hair dyed. Like Nanna does, that blue rinse-y thing. I found it in the cupboard. I tried it, for fun. But kitty didn’t like it at all – he’s quite sad.’
Dawn looked at the blue stains the cat had made – all over the carpet – and sighed. Suddenly, she caught sight of the bedraggled cat hurtling down the stairs and into the hall.
72
Suzie
Annie, her boss, had phoned her yesterday after her row with Rex to ask her to come in and discuss her return to work. Yes, she knew it was a week earlier than their planned meeting, she’d said, but a window had come up and could she just come in please?
Suzie had felt like a blade had sliced through her heart. But after the row with Rex, and when she realised how much she’d let herself go and was – just possibly – a bit obsessed with Jacob, it felt like the right thing to do. Only it was almost a physical pain thinking about leaving Jacob. Yet maybe she should go back to work? At least try? Become a Supermum and prove she could do it? She had been cradling Jacob in her arms at the time, and she had clutched him harder. She could never let him lie in the cot; it was so much more satisfying to hold him while he slept – sometimes for hours until her arms went dead, but she didn’t care. She gazed at Jacob again.
How can I abandon you and go back to work? she’d whispered at him when she’d changed his nappy. He didn’t really need a nappy changing, but it gave her something to do. She popped him in the car seat and then spent ages fiddling with the straps. I’ll just check one more time that they are secure, she told her inner critic, except her inner critic wouldn’t shut up and eventually she let out a deep sigh and had another look at the YouTube video on car seat safety on her phone.
It was going to be a nightmare driving into London, but there was no way she was subjecting Jacob to the train. She clutched the baby seat for dear life as she left the house, crunched across the gravel and spent another ten minutes making sure Jacob was correctly strapped into the car.
As she drove slowly into London, a surge of panic rose in her chest at the amount of traffic, the pollution, especially as she manoeuvred her way onto the M25. She stayed on the inside lane, breathing heavily. She snatched a glance at Jacob through the mirror she’d attached to his car seat, so she could see him properly. He was fine.
When she slowed down outside her old office building, having especially asked for a parking space in the underground car park, she knew Rex would be waiting for her in the lobby. He’d taken some time off work when she’d called and told him. Now that the whole Libor thing had settled down, things were much better at the office and he could afford to relax a little – in fact, in order to keep him on after the whole Martin debacle, they’d promoted him. With a salary to match. Enough to finally pay Charlie what she owed her a few weeks back. Thank goodness. So maybe she really didn’t have to go back to work, did she? Or was it more about her and who she was? She really didn’t know, she realised, as she held Jacob’s car seat tight in the lift up from the car park to the ground floor.
When the lift doors opened, Rex was standing there. ‘Hello, darling! All right?’ He glanced at Jacob in the car seat and gave her a peck on the cheek.
‘Bit nervous.’ She smiled.
‘You’ll be great. It’s fabulous seeing my old Suzie back.’
Old Suzie back. But, she realised, with a stab in her heart, she didn’t share his enthusiasm – she felt utterly out of place. Here she was in her old Marc Jacobs dress, which was, she had to admit, a bit bloody tight across the waist. And next to her was her darling baby in a blanket that was now contaminated with London fumes. She felt quite cross, and yet she couldn’t bear to have left him at home, even though the nanny agency had offered her one of their most experienced nannies for the afternoon.
She’s got twenty years’ experience, Mrs Havilland. She was even on the longlist for Prince Louis. ‘No, it’s all right, I’ll just take him!’ she found herself telling the receptionist before she hung up.
‘You can do this!’ Rex looked solemnly at her and she attempted a smile back. ‘That’s my girl!’ He punched her playfully on the arm and pressed the lift button.
Up they went in the shiny glass lift; Suzie marvelled at all the desks and busy people. They were just like ants viewed from a glass cocoon. Why so busy? What was the rush?
She knew she was Suzie Havilland, Senior Account Exec, and yet, right there, in those lifts, in her high heel shoes, she felt like an alien. The life she knew (sports cars, meetings, manicures at lunchtime, beating her time on her ten-k runs, trips to New York, running a whole department, firing people) had been replaced by milk bottles, and times of feeds, and winding, peering into a cot
, looking for rashes, smothering a forehead in kisses, trips to the GP to check various things again and again and exploding with love. It was worlds away from selling advertising in tight suits. She let out a deep sigh and watched the lift buttons light up, floor by floor.
Will they notice that I’m not actually me? That I have completely changed? That inside the woman in the too-tight designer dress is someone with unpolished toenails under her shoes, a hasty blow-dry and a pounding heart? How can they expect me to leave my baby in the care of strangers? She pressed the ‘open’ button on the top floor and held the side of the door so Rex could get out. She took a deep breath.
It was just as she’d left it. Betina on the front desk, a massive vase of agapanthus on the shiny glass surface in front of her.
‘Hi, Suzie! How are you? Wow, you look, um, so relaxed! You’re hair’s great like that, much more, um, natural-looking with those curls! Welcome back, ooh, isn’t he adorable?’ she had cooed as she came out from behind the reception desk. Betina bent down and knelt by the car seat. ‘Isn’t he just amazing? I bet you are both so proud.’ She smiled.
Rex beamed. ‘Yes, yes we really are.’
Suzie was taking him out of the car seat when Annie appeared by her side. Suzie stood up and let Annie give her a brief hug. ‘Welcome back! My God, the agency needs you!’
Oh God. ‘Hi, Annie, how’s things?’
Annie rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you of all people know what it’s like! It’s been like five deadlines today already. I’ve missed my Red Hot Yoga twice this week already. InDesign has crashed so we’ve lost several renders… You know what it’s like!’ She glanced briefly at Jacob and smiled and raised her eyebrows. ‘Oh, sweet.’
Sweet? Didn’t quite sum it up, did it? Seven years on the hormonal rollercoaster called ‘IVF Fun; £17,000 for the full trip!’ I have bled, I have cried and I have nearly lost my marriage over becoming a mother, thought Suzie as she handed Jacob over to Rex. Not quite ‘sweet’.
Annie turned abruptly away saying, ‘Let’s go.’ Suzie glanced furtively behind her to check on Rex and Jacob. Rex gave her the thumbs-up and nodded as he held on to Jacob. He’ll be fine. Annie had made it quite clear on the phone that she wanted a meeting without a – what had she said – ‘screaming baby in tow’.